


Usaris

by Vixilancia



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory morons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 14:16:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13637961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixilancia/pseuds/Vixilancia





	Usaris

Usaris. A 7ft greatsword. 

Amell remembered the day he got the blade. He'd ran from the circle, only a few sovereigns and items taken from his room to get more. No plan. Only knowing he had to be back soon. 

He'd ran into a town, he couldn't even remember where. His hair didn't get in his face like it did so many years later, wasn't even long enough to.

He remembered people, so many he felt a little sick. And they all looked back at him. Rightfully so, he didn't even have half the muscle mass he had now, but he had the height.

Some merchant stopped him along the way, clearly seeing the young features of his face. He called him ‘a blank slate’, ‘a boring yet worthy canvas, and showed him a design. Amell thought about it, and decided getting it was a great idea. The act of rebelling just from a look.

The tattoo fucking hurt.

It didn't matter, it was done now. He said it would hurt for days. And not to move much. Amell picked up his satchel of miscellaneous crap but just as he turned to leave a dwarf grabbed his lower thigh. 

‘Come and see this, you're perfect for this’, he'd said with such urgency. Amell was hesitant but curious but he went along with the strange man. 

A half finished sword, massive in scale. 

‘Usaris is its name’ his voice was full of self proclaimed awe as he began gesturing to it and then explained what he needed.

Blood, blood of the future owner, and blood of a mage. Amell complied, not even stopping to hesitate. He even enjoyed it when the man cut him. Took away his doubt and fear all in one replacing it with something else.

‘Go back to your circle’ he'd said, ‘she will find you when you are ready.’

And go back he did.

 

Amell laughed to his new friends, fated sword in hand. What a stupid move was it telling this tale. They'd all told stories whole waiting for the others to return. Remi clapped his hands in delight.

“Tis a curious thing how the man did not simply kill you,” Morrigan said.

Amell shrugged, “All it does is light on fire? It's supposed to channel the handler? I don't know what the man was thinking even Sandal can do that enchanting without tearing my skin open.”

Naida made a face of ‘well, you always are an angry little shit’ and Amell laughed, nudging her slightly in jest.

“Amell!” he heard Leliana about from across the party camp as she came running in. 

He turned to her and put his hands over her shoulders, doing quick takes to see if she was okay. She seemed fine, but was drenched in crimson. 

“You're covered in blood Ana,” he murmured, pushing her tattered hair out of her eyes. 

“It's- it's not my blood,” she stammered, first time she’d had an unsure tone.

Amell briefly sighed in relief, before he saw Sten carrying Zevran. His anger renewed, sword catching light from across the camp. He was in incredibly bad shape. Amell didn't even have the feeling in his legs to run to them.

Sten laid Zevran down. Unconscious. Heavily wounded, but ultimately breathing. Amell sat next to him, grabbing the elves’ hand in his own. He'd never noticed how small Zev was before. 

Morrigan joined them, poultices in hand. 

“Morrigan.” Amell spoke dryer than usual. “Out of exactly two mages in the camp, neither of us know a single healing spell?!”

“Well we don't need them! Or we wouldn't if one of you thought to go get some elfroot!”

Amell laced his fingers into Zevran’s long hair as Morrigan applied her trademark herbalism. 

 

A few hours later Zevran was on his feet, limping, but standing nevertheless. He stood next to Amell, smiling up at him. The other smiled back. 

“I can't believe I missed some stories, next time armor breaks we are sending someone else.”

Amell Laughed, “I'm never letting any of you out of my sight ever again. It was just about that dumb sword anyway.”

Zevran reached to grab it before Amell stopped him. “We don't touch Usaris.”

Amell picked up the sword and set it on his lap, running his fingers down the smooth iron edge. Zevran winced again, outstretched hand landing on Amell’s. 

To their bewilderment, the sword didn't burn,  
It? It glowed white? Amell looked wide eyed to Zevran, watching a nasty cut on his cheek close entirely. 

“I thought you didn't know healing spells love,” Leliana shouted attention drawn away from putting petals in the youngest wardens’ hair. 

“I- I don't.” Amell whispered to himself unsure of what the fuck happened.


End file.
